


by the queen's grace

by thornmarch



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Skill: Mercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornmarch/pseuds/thornmarch
Summary: In the shadow of the Tower of Guidance, Elincia considers her training, her past, and her duties as queen. She ruminates on the value of mercy both in peace and war, and whether or not she will be able to do what is necessary to secure Crimea’s future.
Kudos: 2
Collections: Peculiarity: FE Small Writer Zine





	by the queen's grace

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who worked on the Peculiarity zine, especially Char and Hap! It was a joy to participate in a project with so many lovely people.
> 
> Many of the other works from the zine can be found in the collection here on AO3, or you can find the zine itself here via Twitter! https://twitter.com/fesmallwriter

What are one woman’s ideals to an uncaring god?

It’s a question that Elincia has asked herself many times since Ashera woke and threw the world into stasis, and one that increasingly plagues her now that they’ve arrived at the Tower of Guidance.

She wasn’t raised to be a queen. Her childhood had not included lessons on statesmanship or war tactics. It was only at her uncle’s insistence that she learned to wield a sword - another thing she would never have excelled at, if not for Lucia’s strict tutelage. 

Those days are still so clear in her mind. She practiced her forms, her movements, until they were as natural as breathing, whirling about on the sun-cracked pavers in the villa courtyard, her sword glinting in the light. She worked until her whole body ached, and then a little more after that. 

Those skilled with the blade often speak of their sword as an extension of themselves - but even now Amiti feels as though it does not fit in her hand.

 _You need a style that doesn’t rely on strength_. That had been the consensus from the beginning. She’d nodded along, not really understanding what that meant. _A thin sword, then. To strike through the gaps in one’s armour._ She’d wondered why she should do such a thing when she would only ever be fighting in self-defence.

 _With this type of armour you should aim_ here _to slip your blade through the ribcage._

_Most people don’t protect their necks very well. A thin sword like yours-_

No. She would not slit throats like a common bandit. Even against a training dummy she could never bring herself to make that final blow. She learned her forms through repetition - could she have learned to kill in the same way? Could ending lives become second-nature?

She didn’t want to find out.

Sunset marks the end of another empty day. Elincia watches the reds and oranges of the sky as they chase each other across the Tower, the only movement in this stagnant world.

Would there have been a rebellion if she were less hesitant to spill blood? Would the Mad King’s War have ended with fewer lives lost? Could she have averted tragedy if she had just bloodied her hands?

It would be easy to say yes. To blame herself. The truth is that no one can say for sure.

Those to whom she has shown mercy, those she allowed to live when any other might have cut them down… 

Death is the end. Perhaps there’s something beyond it, some final peace that all souls find, but that is well beyond mortal ken. She can only go on what she knows for sure: that death removes the potential for change.

Maybe that’s why she can’t bring herself to mete out such punishment. People can change. Isn’t that the whole reason that they’re fighting? To prove to the goddess that they can be better than they were, so many lifetimes ago?

Not every person she’s spared has gone on to reconsider their lives. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. Some were simply enemy soldiers, fighting for their homes just as she fought for her people. But of those driven by greed or anger or lust for power… had any altered their path? 

Surely at least one.

And even if they hadn’t… Was the belief that they _could_ change not equally important? If she simply killed any who stood in her way, would she not be the same as the Mad King? Resentment and pain would surely fester and soon enough someone would raise their sword against her in pursuit of just vengeance. If she then fell, someone would take up her sword, and around and around they’d go - this unending cycle of hate and blood.

Mercy is the only way to break that chain.

And yet… what does it matter when their opponent shall be a goddess? They must win - not just for Crimea, but for all people, and it’s her duty to fight for those who cannot. To show mercy would be a betrayal. 

Holding fast to one’s ideals - never wavering - was supposed to be strength. It was supposed to be honourable. As things are now, though, it feels more like a crutch. Does she cling to this naive concept of justice because her beliefs are strong, or because she’s afraid? Has she only been able to hold on so long because there were others to dirty their hands on her behalf? Is she prepared to do what she must?

Will she still be able to believe in mercy when her hands are stained with the blood of the divine?

Of course. The alternative doesn’t bear consideration. This will not be the first time she has killed. It won’t be the first death she’s responsible for. It will hopefully be the last, but there are few certainties in leadership. She can only ever do her best to avoid further bloodshed.

This battle is no different.

Elincia will do what she can. She will do what she _must_. Leadership is sacrifice more often than not, and she’s never been afraid of giving herself for her people. 

Even if the price is her ideals. 

The sun sets and she takes a deep breath, watching as the last vestiges of light fade from the sky.

Death is the end. But so long as they live, people can change. They can grow. They can be _better_. She’s prepared to fight to give them that chance - to face the wrath of heaven with only her blade.

For if the goddess does not have mercy… why should she?


End file.
